The first thing I did when I woke up to find myself alive was to cry.

  Despair of certainty transformed into an odd mix of relief and sorrow as I laid there in the blood and tears. Surely it must've been a dream? In what world can someone be so cursed as to be placed in my situation while being blessed enough to be saved from it? My wounds were gone, just as I remembered, though white scars had taken their place to mark my suffering. I didn’t know orcs could do magic.

  What a strange thought to have in that moment. I must’ve gone insane.

  I took a while to gain any sort of proper thought chains, just gratitude and grief and trauma. Because surely everyone I knew was dead if an orc was here, surely I was the only mortal heartbeat left in this village. I didn’t want to think about that, not yet, so I looked into my soul where the demon lied to find…something.

  It took a moment but the imp decided to actually be helpful and pointed to something in reverent fear. Something twisted and filled with strange otherness that I couldn’t parse. I stared at it hard, trying to dig into its contents—

  STRENGTHEN.

  Mana swam through my body to the call of something ethereal, filling my muscles with a power I could hardly fathom. It was intoxicating in its intensity, enough that I lost myself for a few moments and basked in the sheer power.

  Then it waned, and eventually passed.

  I hitched my breath, I barely felt any of the usual mana sickness and that was—

  So much power.

  How much mana did I use? I looked at my river and…didn't know. I didn’t check my reserves before activating the spell. Because surely that was a spell? The orc said it would give me one and…it seemingly did. There was more too, but I could look into that when I wasn’t trapped in a goblin infested wasteland. I could hear them, sifting through corpses and feasting on flesh.

  I picked myself up off the ground, up off the corpses of green and blood of red. Some of that blood was mine, and yet I was alive.

  Arr’koro.

  Destroyer of my home…and bringer of deliverance.

  I didn’t know the first thing about spells so this was more than just a boon. It could be the thing that pushed me to survive. It could be my only lifeline. Was it worth the price?

  They would’ve all died anyway, I didn’t bring the horde here, I didn’t kill them.

  But if I could change the outcome, would I?

  I didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about anything. I wanted to go home and cry and sleep and think about nothing forever and ever. But that wasn’t a choice. I had no home now, just ruins. Just ruins.

  Friends, parents, neighbours, and rivals. All gone.

  Like a candle blown out with little fanfare, and here I was. Delighting in the boons of slaughter. I felt dirty. I didn’t linger on the thought…just walking out of the alley.

  I was prepared for something like that. I had to be, the end of the world wouldn’t show mercy, it was just a little earlier than expected. That was all. Just a little early. I was fine.

  I needed a drink, surely one of the cellars had ale?

  I grabbed my dull blade and slid it in its sheath, treating it with a kind of reverence, in a way it was one cornerstone of my survival.

  I exited the alley to find exactly what I expected, a gaggle of goblins eating through corpses. Immediately my guard rose, gripping the pommel of my blade but I didn't draw it. I felt a kind of kinship with the things, like my connection with the world except twisted.

  One of the goblins noticed me and stared.

  The moment between us felt like an eternity, two overlarge eyes staring into my soul, surely ready to pounce, surely ready to kill, surely—

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  It scoffed at me, and it resembled the tearing of cloth, before returning to its meal.

  I stared at the goblin, disbelieving. I spent a long time just staring as it dug through the chest cavity of who I thought was Tren? His face was gone but the build matched. He didn’t look like he died quickly, if the trail of entrails were any sign.

  He was a nice kid.

  Best not to think about that, so I turned my head to find the mason's daughter instead.

  I didn't look for very long, deciding that I definitely needed some ale before I thought of doing anything else. All the goblins left me alone as I walked. I wanted to kill them, wanted to hang them by their entrails and laugh at their suffering. But I didn’t know if they’d return the gesture. Whatever was protecting me surely wouldn’t let me do so without consequence.

  Just wouldn’t make sense really.

  So I passed by a string of corpses on my way to…somewhere. I found myself at the well that lied in front of the temple. Water. Fucking hilarious. I wanted alcohol and I found water instead.

  I chuckled, then outright laughed, right from the belly and devoid of any mirth.

  I sounded insane.

  I probably was insane.

  The goblins glanced at me, a few even join with their cursed song, which was a little unerving, but I was too far gone to really give a fuck. I just wanted something to drink. So I walked up to the well, weaving past corpses and the green things that ate them, pulling up the bucket to reveal the blessed liquid in all its glory.

  I spent a while quenching my throat.

  The water was heavenly, almost enough to get me to cry ironically enough. But I held back. I didn't finish the bucket, that would’ve been ridiculous. I should’ve found a wineskin though to carry some with me. I was going to have to leave for…somewhere. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I cared. For now I just walked.

  Heading east, where I might find my father, or perhaps mother.

  I didn’t make it far before I was a witness to a corpse on its knees, stroking the hair of a lifeless child. There was a chunk missing from its throat, and half its face was gone, but I recognized it. There was a bangle on its ankle after all.

  I walked up to the thing with little fear and stopped next to it. “Hey Rea,” I said. “Is that Terra?”

  The undead turned to stare at me with eyes of a pale blue, exposed muscle and teeth on one side and the face I recognized on the other. Its gaze was lifeless, no hint of anything at all. But I could feel the sorrow. Whispers from the World communicated enough to tell me that much of the undead.

  It didn’t stop stroking the child’s hair and gave a slow nod. My heart sank but I returned the nod. It was a genuine question. The body was unrecognizable. Most of it was eaten with only some bits of its face remaining, tendons and ligaments barely holding together what was left. The goblins truly must've had a feast.

  “Do you want me to bury her?” I asked, I could tell from the emaciated undead that it…didn’t possess much of a chance at giving its daughter a proper burial.

  The thing looked down at the child, eyes filled with just as much nothing as before, then turned back to me. It nodded again.

  I nodded back. “Let me go get a shovel then.”

  It took a little while, but after looking through the third home I found my prize and returned to Rea. I kneeled down to her level and looked the grieving undead in the eyes. “Here, or somewhere else?”

  It looked at me…then tried to pick up the corpse of its daughter, arms trembling with effort. It failed. I held out my hands.

  “Let me.”

  And it did, with a bit of hesitation though. I held the shovel in my hands while Terra’s corpse rested on my forearms. Rea looked at its daughter’s corpse for a long moment, then started walking to a destination that I knew all too well. I followed.

  The goblins parted for us as we walked, even they possessed the sense to leave the undead alone.

  Eventually we reached the Baker's home, and Rea stopped in front of it, raising an arm slightly to point at the ground in front of it. I placed down the corpse and got to shoveling. Rea watched, I thought of using my new spell to expedite the process but that felt…wrong. So I didn’t.

  I dug a sizable hole eventually, and gave Rea the time it needed with its daughter before placing Terra into it. Then I covered it with dirt and packed it tight. We stood there for a long while surrounded by corpses.

  One mourning undead and one foolish girl.

  “You guys made the best bread,” I said. “Mom always said so, and she’s lived for who knows how long so there’s got to be some truth to that.”

  Rea didn’t look away from where I buried its daughter, but it gave a slow nod.

  “Sorry, I’m not good with…this.”

  The undead shrugged.

  “Did you see my parents?” I asked.

  It shook its head.

  “That would’ve been too easy, huh?” I sighed.

  Rea nodded.

  We stood in silence for a little while longer, with me contemplating the work ahead of me. “I think I’m going to head to Anik, after I’m done here, what about you?”

  Rea actually looked away from the corpse to stare at me, then pointed north.

  “Figures,” I said. “Wanna travel together?”

  Rea, for the first time, made an expression besides blank nothingness. It gave a soft smile, but shook its head. I tried not to take it too personally.

  “Right, well, I have drunkenness to get to and corpses to find so…I don’t know, it was nice knowing you.”

  Rea nodded, and I accepted that for what it was before moving on.